


Dreampt Of More Things

by m_class



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Episode: s03e04 Forget Me Not, F/F, Fix-It, M/M, Other, Season/Series 03, Spoilers, full character‚ relationship and other tags to be added after the episode has been out a bit longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class
Summary: A fix-it for the thing that happened in 3x04 "Forget Me Not." Full character, relationship and other content tags in the Notes; I'll come back and add them to the tag field in a week or two when it's not as recent a spoiler.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Dreampt Of More Things

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings disco friends, here is my attempt at a fix-it fic.
> 
> What I mind most of all was them showing his graphic death scene, whether it’s partially-temporary or completely-temporary, after doing the same with Hugh and Michael’s then-death scenes. As far as the future of Gray's plotline goes (this season and into the next, since we know the actor is filming Season 4), I think there's a chance (especially given that GLAAD was helping them write the storyline) that he'll be completely brought back from the dead like Hugh and a chance that he won't be brought back fully but rather will continue to hang around noncorporeally like he's doing now. But either way, as with Hugh and Michael's graphic then-death scenes, that doesn't change the fact that they showed that in this episode.
> 
> I think I've reached the point of hard 'no’ on continuing to watch the show myself. (Though of course I completely support y’all in watching or not watching the show, as works for you!) And I’ll still be around here, writing fic based on Season 1 through to this episode.
> 
> Also, I’m currently brainstorming ways to put something affirming into the fandom this season while not watching, since I won't be writing fix-it ficlets and…obviously I know no one ~depends~ on my fix-it ficlets, but this community means a lot to me and I guess I want to feel like I'm putting something into the fandom even as I'm (aside from continuing to make content for older season stuff) walking away, if that makes sense? (Maybe some book giveaways of sci-fi books with trans characters, tho that may or may not work logistically/financially, or something like that.) Please let me know if you have suggestions! <3
> 
> Full content tags –  
> Jett Reno, Jett Reno’s Wife, Michael Burnham, Hugh Culber, Ellen Landry, Philippa Georgiou (original Captain version), Adira Tal, Paul Stamets, Gray Tal, Sylvia Tilly, Tracy Pollard  
> Adira Tal/Gray Tal, Jett Reno/Jett Reno’s Wife, Ellen Landry/Amna Patel, Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets  
> Grief (Ellen’s) and mentions of Lorca, no serious injury since again we are sidestepping that but very brief description of Adira’s joining surgery, Gray Tal Lives, Jett Reno’s Wife Lives, Philippa Georgiou Lives
> 
> Note: This is not an Amna Patel Lives universe (Ellen Landry’s fiancée from Star Trek Online), as I am Making A Point about how no, it’s not that queer stories about loss and grief are bad or that I personally don’t want to write/read them; it’s about context, and how many characters have died over the course of your franchise, and the nature of your franchise, and what to portray versus not portray onscreen (in the context of your show), and how you’ve advertised your characters, and reading the room.

“Burning the midnight oil, huh?”

Jett looks up as Michael steps closer to her workbench in the corner of Engineering, raising an eyebrow, as Michael had known she would.

“Here to check my work on your outfit, Commander?” she asks, laconically, before bending her safety-goggled face back to her work.

Michael grins despite herself as she pulls out a chair opposite Jett. “I’m entirely confident in your work, Commander.”

“So you’re here to pester me because…?”

“Because I’m curious to see the work-in-progress. And, more importantly, because I ran into your wife on her way to turn in for the night, and she told me to tell you that she’s taking you out on a fantastic date when all this is over.”

“Where’s she think she’s gonna scare up a place to go out on any kind of date in the ass-middle of the 32nd century?”

Michael grins again. “I think it was a ‘looking for a way to take my wife on a fantastic date and if I cannot find one I will create one’ kind of thing.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” Michael can hear the smirk in Jett’s voice as she fiddles with the wiring on the angel suit’s chestplate.

“Don’t stay up too late, Commander,” she says as she stands. “We’re still gonna need you on shift tomorrow.”

Jett grunts in acknowledgement, and Michael smiles as she walks past the spore cube and towards her quarters for the night.

* * *

“How are you doing with all this, Landry?” Hugh ventures, after a few days of deliberation, when he and Ellen have a quiet moment alone together at the end of a meeting.

Ellen takes a minute before answering, dropping a PADD into her bag. “One of my security lieutenants said it seemed implausible that we’d be able to find a way to send Burnham back in time, once again, especially with the way the Burn affected ability of the time crystals on Boreth to interface with the suit even if we _are_ granted one.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and waits, silent.

“I told her that if she thought _implausible_ was going to stop this crew, she must've not been paying attention to half the weird shenanigans they’ve pulled off.”

Hugh smiles wryly. “‘More things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,’” he quotes.

Ellen gives him a look, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around this ship’s surprisingly high number of Shakespeare fans.”

“And we’ve _already_ dreamt of more things, haven’t we?” Ellen asks simply, pausing and leaning a hip against the table. “At this point, it’s just a matter of choosing philosophies.”

High raises an eyebrow again. “That's an interesting way of looking at it, Commander.”

Ellen folds her arms. “Yes, thank you, I am a font of excellent observations, at least when I’m not busy misreading dipshit captains and making the worst choices in the universe. You can stop giving me the sympathy look, by the way.”

Hugh watches her, silent.

“Yes," she tells him in a sing-song voice, "I have in fact experienced one or two emotions while helping prepare for a mission to bring someone back from the dead and knowing I can never bring my own fiancée back.” Her tone drops back to a flat command. “The only person in my, this, situation who actually deserves your sympathy is Amna, and she’s not here to receive it. You’re a busy man; you’re needed all over the place. Go do something clever and medical somewhere.”

Hugh watches her for a moment longer before he says simply, “I’m so sorry. For your loss.”

“Don’t. No.” Ellen’s voice is firm, though without rancor. “Those words are not for me. I am not a good widow. Do you understand that? Instead of honoring my fiancée in any substantive way, I went off and got manipulated by some dipshit. And what’s worse, if it hadn’t been for the _manipulation_ and the _secretly evil_ part, I might not have ever figured out to regret it. Do you understand that? Can you understand that? You’re a good person. Your partner is a good person. Do you know what it is to not just not be able to save her but to get even _grieving_ wrong?”

For a long moment, Hugh considers what to say.

“I think your actions in helping Lorca were wrong,” he says. “I don’t think it’s possible to grieve wrong.”

Ellen, eyes dubious, grunts in a way that could be dismissal, acknowledgement, or something in between.

“Take care, Commander,” Hugh says quietly, heading for the door.

He is nearly in the hallway when Ellen speaks.

“This is part of hers.”

Hugh pauses, turning to face her again. “Hers--?”

“Amna. This mission would have been part of her philosophy.” Ellen’s lip twitches in what could be the shadow of an exhausted smile, voice still blunt and the expression in her eyes still characteristically direct. “Without question.”

* * *

When Georgiou returns from Boreth, she discovers that Adira has slipped down to the shuttle bay to meet her.

“How did it go?” they ask, hesitantly, eyes wide with some unknown emotion.

“Successful,” she tells them, as the two of them make their way out of the bay together. She pats one strap of her pack. “We now have a time crystal.” Given that Gray’s life rests on having a crystal to power the suit, it’s unsurprising that Adira has been worried.

“No, I mean—I _knew_ you’d be able to do it,” Adira tells her, as if this is obvious, a trust and confidence in their eyes that makes Georgiou’s heart ache. “But, I just, I do talk with the rest of the crew, and they talked about how Pike was so f—messed up by whatever he had to go through to get the crystal, like it was really really…bad. And I just—” They stare at their feet as they walk, sneaking a quick glance sideways at Georgiou. Georgiou knows she probably looks like shit. “If I’d never come to this ship, you wouldn’t have done that for Gray. For us.”

Georgiou stops walking, turning to face Adira, and Adira watches her, their face pinched and anxious.

“Listen to me, Adira.”

Adira nods.

“This might not be something you fully, truly understand until you’re an adult yourself, but when kids are hurt or in danger, it’s us adults' job to protect you. That’s one of the most important parts of being a caring adult Human. Caring adult person,” she corrects herself. “Maybe _the_ most important thing.”

Adira nods uncertainly.

“Saving Gray is the most important thing right now,” Georgiou says gently, as the two of them resume walking. “To all of us. You arriving on this ship was a very, very good thing for so many reasons, Adira. Saving him is one of them.”

* * *

“And that’s a go, Burnham!” comes Paul’s voice in Michael’s ear, and she launches herself upwards from Discovery’s stationary hull, the soft interior padding of the red angel suit once again surrounding her as she hovers in space, programming her coordinates.

“Jump commencing in thirty seconds,” she reports.

“Take good care, Commander,” Paul says, his voice gentle in her ear against the silent cushion of the vacuum around her.

“I will.”

A pause of a few seconds. “Adira says ‘good luck.’”

Michael can picture the two of them as they were when she flew out of the shuttle bay, Paul standing at his portable console in the shuttle bay's cobbled-together mission control, one arm around Adira.

“Tell them—” Michael swallows. “Tell them thank you. Tell them that I’ll—tell them that _we’ll_ be back soon.”

“I will.”

The countdown completes, and Michael falls forward into a bright shower of instants.

* * *

Outside the generation ship, Michael shifts reality out of the timeline with a wave of one Jett-Reno-enhanced suit hand, glancing at the two figures inside the viewport in front of her before tractoring the asteroid off its course. After confirming its trajectory away from the ship, she punches the personal transporter on her chest, materializing inside.

Gray and Adira startle, each making as though to stand protectively in front of the other.

“I mean you no harm,” Michael says quickly. “And you’re both going to be safe. I am going to make sure of that. My name is Michael Burnham, and the next year is going to be very difficult for you, Adira,” she continues, feeling the words tumble from her lips as quickly as she can say them, “but I want you to know that when that year is over, you’re going to see Gray again. Gray,” she says, holding out the unpowered exoskeleton of a second timesuit, “I need you to put this on and come with me.”

Gray steps closer to Adira. “What? No, I—”

“Your name is Gray Tal, and your last name was Senna Tal, and when he was a child his favorite thing to do was to read books to his collection of plush tribble toys,” Michael says.

Gray’s eyes widen. “That’s—“

Michael continues, rattling off former Tal host facts as quickly as she can, before explaining, also as quickly as she can, about the asteroid they’ve just seen her deflect, and the symbiont, and the Discovery.

“Adira needs to have the symbiont,” she explains, “in order not to cause a time paradox. But the modified time crystal in my suit will allow me to shift you—” she nods at Adira—“back into the real timeline in time for the medbots to give you the symbiont. I just need to do it at exactly the right time, so that Gray doesn’t actually die, and you snap back just as the medbots are holding the symbiont.” Do medbots hold things? Hover them? Whatever; she’s getting the point across. And Gray is putting the suit on.

“Luckily, my amazing crewmates have worked out all the timing,” she continues, “so I just need to transport us back outside and then snap the timeline back to the right instant. And, yes, there will be two Tals in the galaxy when you see each other again and I’m sure that will make things very interesting. Ready to go?”

She holds out a hand, and Gray takes it. “I love you, Adira,” he says, as Michael reaches for the transporter.

“I love you too—” Adira says, and Michael and Gray reappear meters away in space. Adira is standing watching them, and standing watching them, and then with a motion of her hand Michael slams them back into the timeline and Gray puts a hand to his mouth over his suit visor as he watches the medbots complete the surgery and place a blanket over Adira, flying the newly-joined Human slowly away down the hallways and out of sight.

“You’ll see them again,” Michael whispers, “in just a minute.”

“Them?” Gray sounds puzzled.

Oh, right. Well, in just moments, there will be ample time for explanations. “Adira. You’ll see Adira, who’s going to be so very, very happy to see you. It will have been a year,” Michael adds, as she pulls up the angel suit controls, “and Adira is going to be so glad to see you again.”

They fall forward into sparking and sparkling time together, and all at once they’re dropping back into the timeline, floating easily in the vacuum in front of Discovery’s shuttle bay.

“Ready?” Michael asks.

Gray nods. “Yeah. I mean—of course I’m ready. I’m ready.”

Michael smiles, floating them into the bay as the forcefield ripples obligingly to let them enter and landing them both on the smooth floor, steadying Gray as his feet make contact.

“Gray?”

Adira is pressing their own hand to their mouth as Michael and Gray release the visors on their suits, and then they take a step toward him, staring as though they don’t quite believe he’s real.

“It’s me,” Gray says quietly, smiling nervously at them. “I’m here.”

This appears to be all the encouragement Adira needs to dash forward, wrapping their arms around him. He hugs them back, eyes closed as he buries his head against their shoulder. Adira is smiling and crying at the same time.

“I’m here,” he whispers to them again.

Michael steps away from the two of them, leaving them to it, and Sylvia hurries forward to wrap her arms around her. “Welcome back, Michael,” she says.

Michael hugs her for several long seconds before releasing her to accept a hug from Philippa and then a pat on the back from Paul as Tracy steps forward to scan her with a medical tricorder. “No adverse effects of the jump,” she reports, smiling.

Hugh is stepping over to do the same for Gray as Gray and Adira finally—though, Michael suspects, temporarily—pull apart. Paul echoes his motion, heading for Adira and rubbing their back before wrapping a supportive arm around their shoulder as Hugh reports that Gray is fine as well and the two teenagers grin exhaustedly at each other.

Michael watches the four of them for another moment, smiling, before turning to glance at the place where Ellen stands at her own console, studiously powering it down. Her eyes flick up just briefly toward the reunion in front of her before she lowers her gaze again, turning and slipping out the doors of the shuttle bay. Michael catches Tracy’s eye, and the two of them walk after her as Sylvia steps over to power her and Paul’s consoles down in turn and Philippa begins the process of packing the rest of mission control up.

* * *

At 20:00 hours in an undisclosed location on the starship Discovery, Jett’s wife leads her, eyes closed and complaining happily, into a room that has been decorated to a degree that resembles an explosion in a paper snowflake factory, while a few decks up on the bridge, Philippa settles into the captain’s chair for the night shift. Tilly climbs into bed, pulling out her PADD with its book on 30th century Earth, and at the table next to the viewport in Discovery’s rec room, Michael and Tracy sit beside Ellen in silence, keeping her company in her complicated grief. Hugh hums to himself while he brushes his teeth, and Paul yawns as he finishes slipping on his pajamas, stepping forward as Hugh sets his toothbrush back in its holder and wrapping his arms around him, humming deliberately off-key. He garners an eye-roll for his trouble, and two decks down, Gray and Adira sit in Discovery’s mess hall, gazing into each others’ eyes as Adira lapses into silence after explaining how Paul found them in the Jefferies tubes in orbit over Earth.

“You’ve had so many adventures all this time,” Gray says, grinning. “Adira _Tal.”_

Adira half laughs, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess so.” They look up at him. “I think my adventures are about to get even weirder, Gray Tal.”

Gray grins again. “You know, I didn’t think I or anyone I know was ever going to have the chance to visit the pools. What was it like?”

“Yes, I suppose you _would_ have to ask me what it’s like, since it’s one of the memories we _don’t_ share,” Adira comments with a mischievous grin of their own.

Gray laughs, shaking his head, and they beam at each other in shared exhaustion and confusion and joy as Adira begins their story and the Discovery floats onward through the night.


End file.
